


Another Moment in your Gravity

by howlittleweare



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Terminal Illnesses, Timeline Shenanigans, To the Moon AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28983309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlittleweare/pseuds/howlittleweare
Summary: "Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." - Kevin ArnoldMatsukawa and Hanamaki are in the business of changing people's memories and their newest client, Oikawa Tooru, wants to go to the moon.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that has been waiting for me to write for two months. I love the game To The Moon (though playing it is not required to read this fic) and my brain wanted to hurt my heart as much as possible so it said "make it Iwaoi"
> 
> I have no beta so forgive any typos please. I'd love to chat in the comments!

Matsukawa was both relieved and dreading his new partner. They had worked together before, he and Hanamaki, and it hadn’t ended disastrously, but now they were partnered together for the foreseeable future. Their job was simple, but also very risky. Hanamaki was risky, in his opinion, and things could always go wrong, Matsukawa had learned before.

Matsukawa enjoyed his job. Working for a private lab was interesting, he wasn’t stuck behind a cubicle all day, and for the most part he was left to his own devices to do the job. The company that he worked for, Seijoh, didn’t have many requirements on how to dress or appear, which was relieving. Matsukawa was always told his tattoos decorating both his arms would keep him from getting a respectable job one day. His boss Kiyoko didn’t care one way or another. She didn’t mind his new partner’s died hot pink hair either.

Maybe it was hypocritical that Matsukawa worried about Hanamaki’s hair appearing unprofessional. His lab coat covered his sleeves at least. But would their clients take them seriously? On the other hand, Hanamaki was so much better at breaking down the technical terms and putting their clients and families at ease. Matsukawa was too in his head about things while Hanamaki always said what he was thinking.

Matsukawa thought about this as the two of them drove towards their new assignment. Hanamaki’s bright pink hair had faded since last they saw each other. It was now a much tolerable shade, though still undeniably pink. The house they were heading towards was far out on the outskirts of the city. About two hours drive from their headquarters on the other side of a small village in the mountains, not far from the sea. As they drove the company car through the woods, sunlight filtered through the trees and caught the two of them in odd flashing shadows. It was late in the day. Normal people would be off from their normal jobs by now and heading home in the warm afternoon glow. But Matsukawa and Hanamaki were not normal, and neither was their job.

Dust kicked up from the mountain road and left a cloudy trails behind them as they drew closer to the sea. “Remind of the client’s name again?”

“You have the case file in your bag,” Matsukawa reminded him tiredly. He’s had this job for three years now, but he still wasn’t used to the odd hours. Hanamaki, who was hired six months ago, adapted to the schedule quickly, was wide awake and ready for a late night. They would be there as long as they needed to.

“Oikawa Tooru,” Hanamaki read aloud from the file he had dug out. “Why do I recognize that name?”

“Maybe he’s famous? Must have lots of money in order to afford our services.” A majority of their clients were famous one way or another, or at least led a successful life in order to afford a home visit from the Seijoh Corporation.

“Wait I remember, he’s a pro athlete. Oikawa played as a setter for Japan’s olympic volleyball team,” Hanamaki noticed the odd look Matsukawa was sending him. “What? I played volleyball in high school.”

“No shit, so did I.” This was surprising thing to find in common, and Matsukawa had hope to maybe further this conversation. Similar high school sport stories would be a great way to form a bond with his new partner, could help them work together better. Mastukawa didn’t play volleyball too seriously, but he was curious what all Hanamaki knew about the pros. He didn’t get a chance to ask though because they arrived at their destination. Maybe another time.

The late evening sun was setting past the trees now, leaving the grand house of their client in a warm but subtle glow. It was early summer, fireflies danced in the darker woods surrounding the home and soft foot path lights were just turning on to lead the way to house. The front yard was immaculate with imported palm trees planted behind the gates and in front of the house. Perhaps their client Oikawa saw these foreign trees while over seas and wanted them to embellish his home. The lawn was nicely manicured with delicate flowers blooming by the grand front door. Hanamaki fanned himself with the case file as he stood outside the car, Matsukawa stretched from the long drive. “So what’s the deal with this guy? He seems to have everything he’s ever wanted. Why hire us?”

“I mean the case file explains what he wants, but we can get more info from his family and caretakers once we’re inside,” Matsukawa explained, beginning his walk up the steps to the front gate. There was a speaker box and call button on the right side, which Hanamaki pressed as he stepped up next to Matsukawa. 

“Oikawa residence,” the voice was a woman’s, maybe in her 40s. The speaker box seemed old, the voice coming through scratchy. Matsukawa was surprised by that, since the rest of the estate seemed to be well kept and updated. A camera at the top of the gate watched the two of them curiously. Matsukawa spoke first “Seijoh Corporation. We’re here to see Oikawa Tooru.”

Immediately the gate buzzed and opened, allowing them both to enter. Hanamaki admired the house as they walked up the path. “One day I’m going to live in a big mansion like this. Have all this space all to myself.”

“No family to share it with?” Matsukawa asked conversationally, he wasn’t paying much attention. He was more focused on remembering what the file said about their client.  
“Well maybe one day, but no one’s knocking down my door right now,” he snickered.  
As they approached the door, a man opened it to greet them. He was undoubtedly very attractive and Matsukawa tried to act professionally and not openly stare as the man started talking to them. Hanamaki had no such restraint.

“Hi, I’m Oikawa Takeru! You may call me Takeru. So glad you guys could find the place, it’s little out in the middle of no where!” The man’s enthusiasm was a little unnerving at first, since most of their clients’ families are very sullen. But Hanamaki saw he was more nervous than actually excited. Poor kid, he thought. “My Uncle Tooru is the one you’re here to see. I’ll show you the way.”

“Takeru! I told you I’d welcome them, you go up and see your uncle.” The same voice from the security box outside could now be placed to a young woman, about the same age as Takeru, making her way down the stairs. Matsukawa and Hanamaki toed off their shoes at the door, softly apologizing their intrusion to her. She was pretty, with a short pixie cut and warm brown eyes. She wore a wedding band on her hand that affectionally brushed Takeru’s shoulder as he passed her bounding up the stairs. “Hello, I am Michimiya Yui. I’m Takeru’s wife and Tooru’s caretaker. Can I get you anything to drink? I’m sorry it was a long drive.”

“No no, we’re happy to make the drive, “ Matsukawa quickly reassured her, at the same time Hanamaki was saying “No, we’re fine thanks.” Michimiya looked between them for a second, and Hanamaki could see the stress and sadness behind her eyes. “How are you taking this?” He asked.

That seemed to break her happy facade for a moment, as she coughed up a sob. Her hand quickly covered her mouth and she looked away. “He’s going soon. I’ve been taking care of him for two years now, and its been real hard seeing him fade so quickly. I have to be there for Takeru. He’s not taking it very well, though he’d never let anybody know.”

Her voice quivered a little but she did not cry, and Hanamaki commended her for how brave she is going through all this. He reassured her, “We’re going to do the best we can.”

Matsukawa watched this exchange, having missed the subtle emotional cues that Hanamaki had caught on to. This is why Kiyoko partnered them together. “May we see him?” Matsukawa softly asked.

Michimiya seemed to pull herself back together then. She was strong, they both thought. She nodded and started to lead them up the stairs. “He’s been sick for a while, it has just taken everything away from him. I think these past few months are what made him decide to hire you guys.”

The stairs were a beautiful dark wood that reach up three stories. Hanamaki thought these stairs would be hell to carry their heavy machine up and down. They passed the second floor, which seemed to lead to an open lounge area as well as some other rooms with closed doors. “Tooru used to sit in there and watch volleyball tapes till late into the night.” Michimiya pointed out one of the doors as the home theatre. “The rest are just bedrooms and storage.”

Up on the third floor, a window peeked out over the valley and Matsukawa could see the sea from there. The sun was low and painting the sky in lovely lavenders and pinks. The color of the sky matched Hanamaki’s hair, he noticed.

“Up here is just the master bedroom and bathroom. Tooru hasn’t left this room in a year.”

Michimiya opened the door to a sad but familiar sight. Across the room in a king sized bed was Oikawa Tooru. He was a tall man, and once had an athletic build, but he looked so small and frail now. His old age had taken away his muscles and his bedridden life has taken away the glow of his skin. He now lay in an empty bed, eyes closed, with tubes and an oxygen tank helping him breath. In the room were plants, and big windows bringing in the dying light. Family members sat bedside, Takeru was crouched beside the bed talking to his uncle “…They just got here, one has pink hair! Oh you would like him Uncle Tooru.”

A sweet woman introduced her self as Yachi Hitoka, the doctor taking care of him in his final days. Next to her was an elderly woman, older than Tooru, who was his sister and Takeru’s mother. She was heartbroken, even Matsukawa could see that, and her eyes would not drift away from Tooru and Takeru for too long. There was no on else in the room.

Matsukawa cleared his throat once the family had introduced themselves. “Hello, I am Dr. Matsukawa Issei, and this is Dr. Hanamaki Takehiro. We are performing Seijoh Corporation’s services today. Before we begin we just wanted to answer any questions you may have and also ask some questions in return so we may be able to best perform our task.”

Takeru raised his hand almost childishly and asked “Will it hurt him?” 

This was a common question. Hanamaki took the liberty of answering “No, the machine we use only connects our minds so we may interact with his memories and subconsciousness. There is no invasive surgery or painful procedure. Plus, he is sedated, if I am correct Dr. Yachi?” She nodded to confirm. “Yes, so he won’t even be able to feel anything.”  
“Are you sure it will work?” The question came from Michimiya. She sounded desperate for this to be successful. “I want him to be happy.”

Hanamaki paused, wanting to make sure his answer would be sufficient to comfort her. Matsukawa jumped in though. “Our procedure has always been effective and we do not log off of the machine until the task is done. We will be sure to change his memories.”

With no more questions, Hanamaki took out the folder and looked over it, asking “Just to be clear, what does the patient hope to get out of this service we are performing?”

Matsukawa added “We want to be sure before we set up and go into his memories.”

“He wants to go to the moon.” This came from Takeru’s mother and Tooru’s sister. She was staring hard at Matsukawa, with the wetness of tears in her eyes. Like she knew this would cost something. “It’s all he’s ever wanted.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It is important that Oikawa-san does not wake up after we alter his memories, which is why this procedure was scheduled so close to his final day. If you’d like to have a moment with him, we will be stepping out to grab our supplies.”

As the two scientist made their way back to the car to grab their machine, the sun was lowering behind the horizon. The cicadas cried off in the distant and they realized how isolated this home was, no lights from the city to give the night a soft glow. If it weren’t for the house’s foot path lights and other flood lights Matsukawa would not be able to see where he was going.

“Isn’t it weird he has such little family or friends here for him? I mean it’s not like he’s so old that all his friends could have died.” Hanamaki was making conversation as they lugged the heavy machine and all its parts out of the trunk of the car (Matsukawa pulled the machine out, Hanamaki was just leaning up against the car and staring up at the night sky.)

Matsukawa didn’t answer at first. He did wonder that too, but he didn’t like to make habit of talking about their clients. Something about Hanamaki made feel like he could bend the rules a little though. He figured maybe it could help him find more insight about their client at least.

“He could be a very private person, not many friends close enough to be at his death bed.” The subject was solemn enough. It always made Matsukawa think about who would be at his bed side when he was old and dying. Definitely his mother, though he never got along with his father that well. Other people though? He supposed those decisions could be made when the time came. The air was growing sticky and the case he carried full of the head pieces and cords was heavy. Matsukawa placed it down for a moment at the foot of the stairs and rolled up his lab coat’s sleeves.

Hanamaki hummed wonderingly. “I wonder if he ever married? For as much as he was in the news, there were never any dating stories despite his many fans.” He sounded distracted as he said this, Matsukawa glanced over to him to make sure Hanamaki’s handle on the main machine was well enough to make it up three flights of stairs. Was it just him or was Hanamaki staring at his arms?

As they set up on the third floor, the family and doctor had relocated to the other side of the room. Still watching over Tooru, but giving the scientist their space to work. There were times where Matsukawa had been squeezed between people uncomfortably because they did not want to leave their family member’s side, so Matsukawa was grateful that the Oikawa’s seemed to understand.

A series of wires connected the three head sets to the complicated machine. Its silver color with black accents made it look sleek and elegant. Hanamaki once mused it looked like an over sized video game console. A shiny Seijoh logo glowed softly on the top as Matsukawa booted it up. It took several seconds of calculating and calibrating the machine before they were ready to put it Tooru’s head. The head set was adjustable and Hanamaki carefully resized it to fit the client’s head. There were three focal points , two on both sides of the temple and one that rested on the center of the forehead. These points touched the skin and sent a sensory input into Tooru’s brain when Matsukawa prompted it, testing it to make sure it was connecting properly to his subconscious. The screen attached to their machine showed a response in the old athlete’s brain waves.

Matsukawa gave a nod to Hanamaki who was slipping on his own head set. “We will be indisposed with the procedure for a few hours. If you need us for any reason,” here he addressed Dr. Yachi. “Just type into the monitor this code I’ve written down. It will alert us.” 

Hanamaki handed her a Seijoh Corp. business card with a code written on the back of it. She nodded understandingly and placed the card in her pocket. Hanamaki settled in his chair and gave a peace sign and a smirk to Matsukawa, who didn’t quite know how to take that, but never the less initiated the Hanamaki’s traversal. His eyes slid closed and his mouth partly opened as he entered a sleep like state.

Matsukawa watched for a second, assuring himself that he wanted to make sure Hanamaki was entering the subconscious properly, before he typed a few commands into the machine. Matsukawa slipped on his own head set then. As senior traversal agent, he would have too enter the mind of clients as well until Hanamaki was trained enough to go on his own. In the past they would have a third member, a technician to monitor them on the outside, but budget cuts these days meant Matsukawa was doing both jobs for now. He queued up several commands for the machine, trusting it to work like every other time he’s done this. And hit enter. As his eyes closed he felt the machine start to kick on in response, his connection to his body’s sense fading away. Before he was fully gone he heard the voice of Takeru softly say “Do you think we should have told them…?”

Memory traversal was an odd experience. No matter how many times he did it, Matsukawa couldn’t get used to the initial feeling of it. It was like having no body, no senses. But their bodies still appeared the way they looked on the outside. Matsukawa in his khaki joggers, black shirt and a white lab coat, Hanamaki a distance away in his jeans and gray t-shirt under the lab coat. He observed Hanamaki struggle to walk over to him, still getting his bearings. This was only the third time Hanamaki was traversing memories, Matsukawa had to remind himself.

The world colored in around them in a sepia tone, like a video game world loading in. They were at the house, in the bedroom they were just in, but Tooru and all his machines keeping him alive were gone.  
“This must be his last accessible memory. Before he fell ill.” Matsukawa mused to himself.

Changing memories was an interesting art. The machine did most of the work for them actually. When a client desired to change something in their life, or wish they had done something else, it was up to the scientists to go far enough back in the memories to put the idea or desire into the client’s head— Instilling a desire that would the stick with them their whole life. The machine filled in the blanks and helped the client create a moment or event in which their dream could come true. In real life ambitions fade and falter, but here the machine would ensure the inputted desire would be fulfilled.

“Let’s hurry up and find the old man, there’s no way he’s going to the moon at this age.” Hanamaki stretched next to Matsukawa and they exited the master bedroom together. Down the dark wood stairs and onto the second floor they searched for where he may be. Some of the rooms where full of storage, some dusty unused bedrooms Michimiya had said. The home theatre had boxes full of old volleyball tapes and reels, but when Hanamaki opened them, the objects were fuzzy and lost to memory. Unimportant things that people’s brains don’t bother to hold on to appear faded and fuzzy in memories, sometimes appearing as just static when something has been entirely forgotten.

“I see him, he’s outside,” Matsukawa called out, and Hanamaki folded the box back up and left the tapes as they were. He joined Matsukawa at the stairs and they made their way down to the first floor. A calendar in the kitchen placed this memory they were in to two years ago. Hanamaki could see through the window a sandy volleyball court. The net was torn and worn, it looked unused for quite sometime. But through the window they could also see a path leading away from the house and into the forest, and a gray haired man walking down the path.

Outside, it looked like it was going to rain soon. They found Tooru at a quiet koi pond, seated on a bench where he could watch the fish swim lazily. The occasional drop from the sky rippled the water and obscured the orange and white fish from view. When Matsukawa looked at Tooru, he saw him the way he used to be. Lively and spirited despite his old age. He wore a brace over his knee that he rubbed at as the clouds rolled in. He was beautiful, Matsukawa thought. In a way that you looked at over grown ruins, and could tell they were beautiful now, but must have been glorious in their prime.

“Oikawa-san?” Matsukawa asked softly, trying not to startle the old man. Tooru turned his head, surprise lighting his eyes. He smiled at them, despite the brief confusion. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. I don’t often get visitors anymore. How can I help you?”

Matsukawa cleared his throat. “I’m Dr. Matsukawa, and this is Dr. Hanamaki. We’re from Seijoh Corporation.”

“What a surprise, Mattsun!” Oikawa laughed cheerfully. The nickname took Matsukawa by surprise but there was something about Tooru’s charm that made it feel an affectionate ribbing from a friend. “I was just thinking about calling your company to ask about its services.”

“Well that’s why we’re here, sir. You’ve already contacted us. We’re here to fulfill the contract.”

“Oh I see,” He looked back down at the koi pond. “You’re here to take me to the moon?” The old man had a soft smile on his lips, and shine in his eyes as he watched the koi fish dance. “That means it’s almost my time, how long…”

“Two years.” Hanamaki supplied.

“So can you do it?” This time when he looked at them, there was a challenge in his eyes. Both Matsukawa and Hanamaki could see the old competitive streak in side him that drove him to playing professionally.

“We can’t take you there, but we’ll make out so you go there yourself. We need to go far enough back in your memories to trigger the desire to go. Can you tell us why you want to go to the moon?” Matsukawa was taking the lead, as Hanamaki hung slightly behind him.

“Hmmm… I’m not sure.”

“Is it the money? Or the fame?” Hanamaki asked, “You can tell us, we’re just here to help.”

“As you can tell I don’t need either of those things. I don’t know why I want to go, I just do.”

“Okay,” Matsukawa gently interjected, eyeing Hanamaki for a moment. “So what’s going to happen, Oikawa-san, is we’re going to traverse through your memories with gradual backwards leaps, because your childhood is too far away to hop there right away.

“Once we have a direct link to your childhood, we can come back here and together we can help convince you to become an astronaut.”

“Sounds very complicated but I’m up for it. Whatever it takes.” Tooru closed his eyes and tilted his head while he smiled, in a way that made Hanamaki realize why when he was younger, all the girls swooned over him.

Matsukawa gave a relieved sigh. “Great. Now we need a momento. Some sort of memorable object that is important to you?”

Tooru though about it before pulling out his keys from his coat. He detached a worn little alien keychain and held it up from them to see. Its green skin sparkled with glitter. Hanamaki stifled a laugh because, what? Most momentos of their clients were photographs or letters, but he supposed everyone was different. Matsukawa was a professional on the other hand and took the old key chain carefully. Bits of glitter flaked off into his hand. “Computer, prepare momento.”  
Quietly, like a back ground noise coming from the road a few meters away, Hanamaki could hear the machine process the data of the momento and create a link in the timeline for them. “Wait,” Tooru suddenly interjected. “What about my privacy?”

“We will try not to pry, but sometimes, it unavoidable as we do have to go through your memories.”

“I should tell you about Iwa-chan then.”

But the machine was already activating their jump to the next memory. Matsukawa could try to stop it, but more than likely he’d have to reboot the memory and that was just a waste of time. He knew they would find out about this Iwa-chan one way or another, if it was important to Tooru.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time around, sorry about that! I think the next chapter will be longer though.

The world faded away and faded back in within a few moments. They were outside still, but Tooru was gone. Not seeing their client anywhere outside they moved into the house. A warm smell of freshly brewed jasmine tea beckoned Hanamaki into the closest room. The kitchen was clean and tidy, with well kept machines and utensils decorating the counters. Hanging on a keyring was the set of keys attached to the alien keychain Tooru had shown them. In the opposite corner of the kitchen, by a bright window, was Tooru sipping a cup of tea and gazing out at the volleyball net that swayed tattered in the wind. Before, Tooru could notice them, Matsukawa said quietly “Disable visibility and interactivity.”

He said this to the machine, commanding an option that would render the two scientist completely absent from the memory. They could still traverse the memory, but this way Tooru and anyone else that may be around would not see them. It would be a pain to re-explain the situation every time they jumped memories.

In another room of the house, a record machine began playing an old vinyl, a recording of a piano repeating the same two notes it a hypnotic manner. Soft strings accompanied the melody and a sweet guitar filled the gaps. Seeing as they needed to find the next momento to travel further back, the two began to explore. Hanamaki found it was an office where the music was coming from, a room that had been closed when they first arrived at the house and thus they had never seen. He found Michimiya cleaning out an old desk covered in dust and boxes. Her hair was a little longer at this point, and kept out of her face with a red handkerchief. “Oikawa-san, should I get rid of these boxes?” She called out into the house, trusting he would hear. 

Quicker than the old man should be, he appeared beside Hanamaki in the door way, smiling pleasantly at Michimiya. Matsukawa followed behind him. “Oh, Yui-chan, you can leave those. You don’t need to clean, honestly. You’re here to keep me company aren’t you?”

“Yes, Oikawa-san, but I can’t stand seeing cluttered boxes around your house. They’re covered in dust, you never touch these. Can’t we get rid of them?” She said this in a way that made it clear they’ve talked about this before. Hanamaki did not recall seeing boxes like these around the house before, so Michimiya must have gotten her way eventually.

“Why don’t we just move the boxes to the guest rooms? It’s not like we ever use them, anyways.” Michimiya raised an eyebrow at Tooru, but his challenging returned smirk made her cave. “Alright, fine, we’ll do it your way, “ she chuckled.

As Michimiya wiped dust off her hands onto her pants, Tooru came over to open the top box of the stack, rifling through the contents. Hanamaki looked over his shoulder into the box. It was mostly full of papers, old yellowing game plans and work out routines. Scratchy handwriting skated across every page, with random intervals of cutesy cursive notes and doodles in a different colored ink. The light coming through the blinds colored the room in an amber glow, particles of dust that had been disturbed floating through the beams of light almost made Hanamaki sneeze, even though it didn’t affect him that way. A photo graph was pulled from the box, the sunlight providing a glare on the glossy picture keeping Hanamaki from seeing it. “This was Iwa-chan’s” he mused quietly.

Michimiya stopped moving then, even stopped breathing for a moment. Though Tooru’s expression betrayed nothing, Michimiya looked sadly at the old man. Matsukawa came closer, putting a hand on Hanamaki’s shoulder and nodding his head towards the next room. “C’mon.”

Back out into the foyer of the house, near the stair case Matuskuawa waited for Hanamaki. “He must have lost someone, it’s kind of sad.”

“It’s nothing we’re not used to,” Matsukawa reminded him softly. And he was right. This was just part of the job, and speaking of the job, they needed to find the next momento. They climbed the stairs, passing the second floor and moving on to the third. Inside the master bedroom, Matsukawa found a photograph on the dresser of two men in suits, smiling for the camera. One was Tooru, maybe in his 40s, childishly holding up a peace sign next to his grinning teenaged nephew Takeru. They must have dressed up for a nice event, maybe a wedding. Matsukawa quietly hoped to himself that he would age as well as Oikawa Tooru did. The guy could have been model well into his 40s, it seems, as Matsukawa took in other framed photos on the dresser and on the walls he didn’t notice the first time in the room. Most were family photos, or shots of nature, but next to Tooru, there was almost always an unknown man. Matsukawa got the hunch maybe this was the so called “Iwa-chan” he’s heard mentioned now several times. Maybe a close family friend.

Hanamaki meanwhile was investigating the bathroom, admiring the size of the shower and bath tub. What he wouldn’t give to be rich enough to afford a giant waterfall shower. In the medicine cabinet were bottles of vitamins and other first aid supplies. No sign of his illness rearing its ugly head yet. Hanamaki then noticed a dish on the sink counter, with a silver band sitting I the middle of it. It looked like a wedding band. Before he could pick its ups to investigate it further, Matsukawa called out from the bedroom “I found it!”

Matsukawa was pointing to a framed photograph, its old paper protected inside the glass. It featured the Japan 2019 Olympic volleyball team, of which Tooru played setter for. Here he was in his prime, all long limbs and toned muscled, trained to perfection. It was an action shot of their team in an intense match against Brazil. Hanamaki remembers they lost that game. How heartbreaking it must have been to train so hard to get to the Olympics and then lose in one of their first matches. It wasn’t Japans’ greatest year at the Olympics, but they still must have been proud to make it that far. When Hanamaki actually paid attention though, he could sense the faint aura of a momento coming from it. It stood out a little clearer than the other photographs despite its age. Matsukawa prepared the momento, it only taking moments to register with the machine and with Tooru’s memories. Now was their chance to jump back, hopefully further than their first jump had taken them.

Hanamaki heard the record player downstairs stop playing.

The next memory they appeared in, placed Tooru about 9 years before they originally came to him. It was his 82nd birthday. Matsukawa could see out the window the family of Tooru, the same family gathered by his death bed, were down in the back yard preparing a party. Tooru’s older sister sat in the shade sipping a cool drink and directing where the decorations should go. Michimiya and another older gentleman where hanging a banner that read “Happy Birthday Tooru!” And Takeru was attempting to serve a slightly deflated volleyball over the tattered net. Michimiya yelled at him to stop fooling around and help bring out the food. Other neighbors or friends, some of whom’s faces were blurred and forgotten, mingled about the party in the back yard. The only one missing was Tooru.

Down the hall and in clear view of the second floor landing, was a cabinet of trophies, awards, and certificates. Some of them were medals or trophies from volleyball competitions. Tooru’s team seemed to win Nationals several times, Matsukawa pondered as they drew closer. Inside the clear cabinet was the framed photo of Tooru’s olympic picture, before it was moved to his room. Suddenly, they heard a crash and then a loud cry come from the home theatre. Hanamaki led the charge into the room, finding Tooru kneeling on the ground. In between the row of seats, in front of the large tv screen, Tooru knelt crying aloud. 

Matsukawa did not cry easily. He wasn’t the type to get emotional about sad plots in movies or books, and he always felt awkwardly blank in situation he was supposed to feel sad, but there was something utterly heartbreaking seeing an old man crying, kneeling on the floor surrounded by DVDs and tapes. In his hands was one shattered tape, its broken pieces and torn reel lay uselessly in his hands. Hanamaki felt the need to get down on the floor and comfort the old man, but knew that wasn’t how this worked. They weren’t sure what he was upset over, exactly, but knew something must have been important on that tape. Scribbled across two of the broken pieces, Hanamaki pieced together “Aoba Johsai volleyball” the rest was unreadable. Tooru cried aloud “No, no, no! Iwa I'm so sorry...”

In the end, Matsukawa convinced Hanamaki to leave the room with him, eventually someone would find him, but they needed to move on with their mission. Despite knowing this was in the past, and just a memory, they both felt kind of bad about leaving Tooru alone like that.

As they made their way out of the home theatre, Hanamaki spotted a Godzilla movie poster on the opposite wall, its popping image and glow stood out to them as their next momento.

“Are you sure we can’t do something about…?” 

“You know we can’t fix every bad memory we come across. Our goal is to make good memories that will outshine the bad. We should move on.” Matsukawa was right, they needed to move on. From downstairs, Hanamaki heard Takeru call up, “Uncle Tooru?” And it gave him some comfort that Tooru was not alone in his grief for very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An old woman was crying at my work the other day and it like really affected me, so I wanted to sort of include that helpless feeling for the scientists in this chapter. Hopefully it came across okay.


	4. Chapter 4

Hanamaki stood in the second floor hallway with a bitter taste in his mouth. His hands turned into fists at his side as he struggled with this twisting in his stomach. This was only his third time on a real case, and he knew the shadow of death hung over nearly each client, but he still didn’t expect some of the tragedies of someone else’s life to get to him. Matsukawa was there by his side, a hand on his arm. Hanamaki looked up into his dark eyes. They were warm and comforting. 

“I understand. It’s something we have to deal with. You’ll better at it as you go,” Matsukawa’s voice was as soft and deep as his eyes. Hanamaki found him self almost leaning into Matsukawa. “Just remember we’re going to make him happier than he’s ever been once we’re done. Going to the moon is what he wants more than anything.”

Hanamaki stood quietly for a moment, searching for more answers in Matsukawa’s face. Eventually he must have found what he needed, because he sighed, loosened his fists, and gave a short nod. “Sorry for loosing my cool for a second there,” he said after a few moments. “It won’t happen again.”

Matsukawa’s lips turned up in a knowing smile, “No worries.”

Hanamaki smiled back. Matsukawa couldn’t help but watch his lips momentarily. “Anyways, I can’t figure out why Oikawa-san has this Godzilla poster? I read articles about him and stuff. He was never into monster movies, more of a romcom guy.”

“Maybe someone important to him likes it—“ Matsukawa is cut off by a door sliding shut. A glance down the stairs towards the main entrance reveals Tooru in a track suit. His hair is styled and his posture is impeccable, until he slumps down into a soft chair in the foyer. Hanamaki cleared his throat after a moment, saying to Matsukawa, “I’ll go look around outside.”

Matsukawa remained on the stairs, though he did step down to the last few steps and watched Tooru. He was younger, but clearly still in his late 70s. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything, staring off into the distance and lost in thought. The house felt so suffocatingly empty all of a sudden. Just rooms fulls of boxes of someone who was no longer around, an old man living alone in a house too big. There was an inexhaustible silence that deafened any outside noise from nature or the mountain road nearby. That silence could easily swallow you whole, make you wait an eternity while only seconds went by, begging for somebody to speak. Tooru got up slowly and walked into the office that Michimiya was cleaning in a different memory. There he dusted off the record player. He pulled a box of records off a shelf and dug through them to find a specific record. When he played it, Matsukawa recognized it as the two note piano piece. Scribbled on the folder that Tooru slipped it from was “For Iwa-chan.”

Tooru dug through another. Box until he found a thick wooden picture frame, he pulled it out of the box, straining as it snagged on other occupants of the box. When it was free it revealed a framed jersey. If Hanamaki was here maybe he could tell him which team it was for, all he could tell was the colors, white and teal, and the designated player, number 4. Oikawa stroked the glass softly, leaving behind a smudge from his dusty finger tips. He carried it with him through the house as he made his way into the back yard. Matsukawa followed as he was sure the jersey was another momento, given its glow. Outside Hanamaki found them and saw the momento Tooru was carrying. “Hey we gonna get that?”

“Huh?” Matsukawa had nearly forgotten their purpose. “Oh right, sure.” He walked closer to Tooru, not paying much attention to where they were going, and began preparing the momento. He nearly fell into the koi pond that way, if it weren’t for Hanamaki catching him. His hands wrapped around Matsukawa’s thick arms, pulling him backwards. He actually stumbled back into Hanamaki’s chest, feeling his solid muscle and a strong heartbeat for a brief moment before he righted himself. Hanamaki spared Matsukawa his teasing this time because they were both more focused on Tooru right now. “I wonder who’s jersey that is? It’s not any of Oikawa-san’s.”

“No?”

“Nah, he was number 1 in his high school team, and then number 3 on his pro team.”

The momento was prepared and ready to activate. Tooru still clutched it in his arms, he was kneeling now in front of a stone. It appeared ordinary at first but now that they were looking at it, Matsukawa could now see engraved on the stone were words, “In loving Memory of Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Iwa-chan.” Tooru’s sudden voice in the quiet air startled the two. “You’re gone, and I just can’t imagine what to do with myself.”

His voice was still, it was sad but in a different way. He was hurting, like he was slowly bleeding out from a wound inflicted long ago. He smiled softly, and it was strange. “You know I’m still keeping my promise. They don’t like me like they liked you. You know Tobio-chan still watches closely me whenever I’m around. I never understood why you liked such nasty creatures, but I respect your wish. I’ll watch over them every day.

But I’m afraid Iwa-chan. When I die, who will watch over us?”

Slow tears fell from his eyes. A silver wedding band glimmered in the sun. It all suddenly made sense to Matsukawa. 

Hanamaki bumped his elbow against Matsukawa’s. “Let’s go.”

Hanamaki may have disappeared into the next memory, but Matsukawa knew he wouldn’t proceed without his partner. He could wait a few moments. “Enable interactivity and visibility, computer.”

Oikawa quickly looked up at Matsukawa when he appeared, he brushed his tears away. “Who are you?”

“I’m just passing by… Was he your husband?”

Tooru paused momentarily, eyeing this stranger calculatively. Matsukawa could see in that moment how he could be an amazing setter, the was he scrutinized everything before making a decision. Whatever he saw in Matsukawa, this total stranger trespassing in his yard, he must have deemed alright. “… Yes. His name was Hajime.”

“He sounds like a special person.”

“He was special. I knew him my whole life.” Tooru looked back down at the memorial. He grew lost in thought again, focusing on the warm stone. Matsukawa disabled his interactivity, and activated the momento.

“Took you long enough,” Hanamaki grinned and nudged Matsukawa when he appeared next to him. “What were you doing?”

“Enjoying the scenery,” Matsukawa answered. There was something off about his voice so Hanamaki decided to drop it. “Wait, where are we?”

This memory was not in the home that had grown so familiar to the two scientist. They were in a hospital corridor, faceless doctors rushing by them. Nurses ran in and out of open rooms to tend to blurry patients. The colors where dull and nearly grayscale in the hospital. Phone calls rang out in the lobby area and plenty of voices of nurses and patients and family members blended together in a background cacophony. They needed to find Tooru or the momento in this mess? Right as Matsukawa thought that, he heard a blurry faced nurse call out “Oikawa-san?” as she crossed from the circulation desk into a hospital room down the hall from them. Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed her. The room was more colored than the rest of the floor, machines softly beeping and monitoring vitals, a glowing vase of flowers resting on a bedside table. They were purple and yellow, their colors standing out beautifully against the grayscale room. They gave off a powerful scent of lavender. This was their momento.

Tooru sat next to these flowers, bedside to a man about the same age as him. His hair was salt and pepper and he had a dark goatee. He had a bandage wrapped around this head, his eyes closed and he was breathing slowly. The nurse was speaking to Tooru, who never looked away from this man he was sitting next to. What the nurse was saying was forgotten, as her voice came out garbled and staticky. When she left the room, Tooru rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He was dressed in a teal sweatshirt and gray sweatpants with a coat thrown over his shoulders. He looked exhausted, who knew how long he had been at this man’s bedside.

Tooru reached across the bed and tenderly brushed the face of the man once the nurse had left. The man stirred, leaning his head into the touch before his eyes opened wearily. He looked over to Tooru, his eyes were sad and scared. “Oikawa…”

“I’m here, don’t worry.” Tooru sat up immediately and grabbed the man’s hand. He sounded so happy to see the man awake. “Ya know I was doing the numbers, and after we pay for your operation, we’ll have enough for it, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi, they finally had a face to put to the name, gave a half smile. He looked at Tooru lovingly but ruefully. “Don’t lie to me, shittykawa.”

Oikawa squawked at the nickname, and Hanamaki chuckled as he walked to the other side of the bed to prepare the momento. “Iwa-chan, after all these years, and in such a dire situation, you still use that awful nickname?”

This made Iwaizumi laugh, his eyes closing for a moment and he fought a sharp smile. After making his husband laugh, Oikawa seemed less on edge. His smile faded a little as he continued to push the subject. “I’m not lying though, your operation won’t be that much. And we’ll have just enough left over for the house.”

“I’ve looked at our financials, Tooru.” Iwaizumi’s deep voice cut through Tooru’s fake laugh immediately. “I’m not signing the papers.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Iwa-chan! Whats more important? Your operation or a silly house?”

“You know I don’t feel that way about it. You know it’s what we both have wanted for so long.”

“We need the money for your medical bills, Iwa.”

“Tooru,” his voice was softer now, so soft Matsukawa had to strain to hear his deep rumble. A fast, hot tear fell down Tooru’s face. His lips scrunched up in a painful pout as he fought any more from falling. The accident was a car crash, Matsukawa read on the file hanging from the foot of Iwaizumi’s hospital bed. He was dying.

“But Iwa-chan—“

“Stop, why are you trying to convince me against my will?”

“I understand it means a lot to you, but this is just too much.” Tooru was angry, his big brown eyes watery, he had his hands clenched in fists on top of the bed.

“We always dreamed of moving out of the city,” Iwaizumi was looking up at the ceiling now, his eyes shining lightly with hope and memory. “Into the country, where we could start a garden. A big house with all that we’d ever need. A place to feed the crows.”

They were silent then for a long time. Iwaizumi stared up at the ceiling, imagining their future home together. His eyes dance across the ceiling imaging the color of the house, the koi pond and garden in the back yard. The volleyball court they could set up to teach private lessons. All this they had planned together for years. Tooru on the other hand, sank his head onto the bed, crying lightly. His hands grasped Iwaizumi’s hand tightly. Hanamaki noticed matching wedding bands on each other’s fingers and he finally understood. The two old men must love each other very much, he though to himself. But the next momento was ready to be activated. Enough stalling.

“Hajime…”

“Will you bring the record player next time? I want to hear our song.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lot of dialogue this time around, and we're moving into calmer waters now. Sorry for all the angst at the beginning, but that tends to happen when you start a story at the end.

They were back at the house, but it wasn’t quite right. Just the infrastructure was built on cleared land. Bare bones of a house yet to be. Building supplies littered the red dirt yard which Hanamaki knew would one day be a floral oasis. Through the empty walls, in the back yard, Matsukawa could already see a koi pond in the process of being dug, the rocks for the fountain stacked up beside it ready to be placed. Crisp brown leaves fell into piles around the edges of the property. On the concrete foundation, where the front steps would be, sat Tooru. He drank from a thermos, his breath fogging in the chilly winter air. A tan Nissan drove up the mountain road, pull to a stop beside Tooru’s dark gray Toyota. Another older gentle man stepped out of the car, he seemed about the same ago as Tooru, maybe younger. He had silvery white hair that fell gracefully along his face, not too different from Tooru’s hair.

“Oikawa-san. I thought I’d find you here.” He stepped up closer and lowered himself gingerly onto the step next to Tooru. Tooru did not smile, but continued to look down at his hands. The man next to Tooru pulled a packaged snack cake out of his coat pocket. “I brought milkbread. Your favorite.”

“Yahaba,” Tooru said, for the first time not assigning a nickname to someone. He did not continue, even though his voice sounded like he had more to say.

“Kentaro told me about Iwaizumi-san. Is he going to be okay?”

“… The car swerved to avoid a stray cat. Iwa-chan didn’t react in time… I told him he needs to wear his glasses when he drives.”

Yahaba did not say anything, waiting for Tooru to finish. He rubbed his gloved hands together, generating warmth. Tooru sat beside him in a sweater, unchanged by the cold weather. “He needs surgeries… and the house isn’t finished, but the medical bills… We can’t pay for both.”

Yahaba looked at Tooru then, his eyes glassy with understanding of what this means for them.

“We’ve got to treat him, but you don’t know how much this place means to him.” Tooru, looks back towards the wooden structure, reaching high up into the sky. He places his bare hand kindly on the barren door frame, like he was greeting (or maybe saying good bye) to an old friend.

“Is there anything we can do? I know we don’t have much money—“

“No, no,” Tooru cut Yahaba off, waving his hand loosely. “You’ve done enough. C’mon, you know my stubborn pride wouldn’t allow it anyways.”

The sat in silence for a while, Yahaba knowing there was nothing he could say or do to really help Tooru, other than be there for him. A group of crows sat quietly on a power line across the street watching the two. Yahaba shivered. He never could stand the cold. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. The sun would go down soon. “What are going to do?”

“I… I have tell Iwa-chan that we can afford both the surgeries and the house. He’ll be heart broken otherwise.”

“You shouldn’t lie to him,” Yahaba warned. Tooru smirked over at him, like a teacher impressed by being scolded by his student.

“I don’t want him to do anything crazy. You know he’s more stubborn than me,” Tooru’s smile fades again back to a somber frown. “If I told him the truth… I don’t know which he would choose. And that scares me, Yahaba.”

“If he chooses the house over his treatment then so what? It’s his life, Oikawa-san, you have to respect his choices.”  
Tooru whips his glare over to Yahaba who is staring sternly back. “This isn’t just about him. After all these years, am I not allowed to be selfish? I’ve never been without him. I don’t want to be alone…”

“You’re being arrogant and selfish, Oikawa-san!”  
“I don’t care, I’m not going to let him die.” Oikawa stood, whipping his shivering hands on his pants and storming off towards his car.

“Where are you going?” Yahaba struggled to get up and chase after him, his knees straining. “Oikawa-san, please!”

Tooru stopped beside his Toyota, his keys in his hands, glittery alien keychain dancing in the cold air. Yahaba caught up and put his hand on his shoulder, he could feel Oikawa shaking. They didn’t say anything for a moment, Tooru refusing to face his friend and Yahaba pretending not see Tooru crying. “Kentaro told me to give something to you and Iwaizumi-san.”

Yahaba walked to his car and opened the passenger side door. He pulled a square folder out of the car, returning to Tooru’s side and placing the vinyl disk in its cover in his hands. It was glowing. “It’s called Everything’s Alright.”

“…but everything isn’t.”

The next memory, Tooru was still old and grey, but his hair had more streaks of brown in it. Matsukawa could tell they were approaching late adulthood. Tooru was seated at a table in a cafe, somewhere on the outskirts of the city. It was late afternoon and the cafe was nearly empty. Matsukawa and Hanamaki sat at another table near by, waiting for the next momento to reveal itself to them. Tooru was with three other people, Iwaizumi, now in perfect health, right next to Tooru and across the table from them sat Yahaba and another man that looked extremely grumpy. 

“He reminds me of my grandfather,” Hanamaki joked, leaning back comfortably in his seat. Matsukawa looked over at him, saw the way the sunlight hit Hanamaki’s light brown eyes.

“Mad dog-chan, you haven’t even touched your muffin!” Tooru called out loudly suddenly, breaking Matsukawa’s reverent focus on his partner. The grumpy-faced “mad dog” was sulking and glaring at Tooru, but not in anyway that translated hostility, and the rest of the group didn’t seem to act like anything was out of the ordinary. “You’re going to wither away if you do not eat!”

“I’ve already eaten two,” the mad dog snapped back. Yahaba placed a hand on his shoulder softly, reminding him not to let Oikawa-san provoke him. Matsukawa they too wore matching wedding bands when the mad dog lifted his hand from his lap to grab and take a bite of his muffin anyways.

“Eh, quiet down you two.” A deep voice reprimanded. It took the scientists a second to place it as Iwaizumi, as the last time they heard him speak it was quiet and scratchy, pained and sad. He glanced over his shoulder at the staff of the cafe who were paying the group of old men out for coffee no mind. There was one other customer in the cafe, but she had on headphones while typing away at a computer.

“No one minds, Iwa-chaaaaaaan,” Tooru teased, extending the nickname until Iwaizumi kicked him under the table.

“So,” Yahaba started. “I heard you’re finally going for it? You’re going to build the house?”

Tooru smiled widely, barely containing his glee, but he allowed Iwaizumi who sat with a satisfied smirk to talk about their dream home. “We found the perfect lot, up the mountain. It’s not too far away from Nishi trail.”

“Oh! That’s so romantic, isn’t it Kentaro? Your wedding was on that trail, wasn’t it?” Yahaba squealed with delight, his face scrunching up beautifully, wrinkles showing he’s smiled a lot like this through his years. Tooru nods and Iwaizumi’s cheeks color, he glances away but was still smiling. “It’s a bit tight, but we split the payments up. We should be able to afford it all alright.”

Yahaba nodded in understanding and sipped his hot coffee gingerly. “it’s so beautiful up on the mountain. We’ll miss you in the city though.”

“Not to worry Yahaba, we’ll visit quite often.” Oikawa reassured his friend. While those two chattered away about decorating the house and the garden, Iwaizumi turned to the grumpy man seated across from him. “Kyotani, we’re going to put in a volley ball court and teach private lessons, you’ll come help out sometime?” He asked. 

“If surgery goes well, I’d love too, Iwaizumi-san.” He said this, patting Yahaba’s knee. “It’s hard to get away when I always need to help this one out.”

Iwaizumi laughed and nodded his head in understanding. He stood up then, buttoning his jacket around himself. “I’m going to get more coffee, can I get you all anything?”

All shook their heads, Tooru still working on his mug of tea ad Kyotani looking very full with his half eaten muffin left o the plate. Yahaba shook his head but stood from the table too. “I need to use the restroom.”

The two men walked away from the table, leaving behind Kyotani and Tooru. Kyotani eyed his friend warily, before cracking a reluctant smile. “Congratulations on the house.”

“Thanks,” Tooru said genuinely. “Its all Iwa-chan’s been talking about for weeks. It’s his dream home. We love the city, but there’s something about the country that reminds him of home.”

Kyotani nodded silently, taking a long sip of water before addressing Tooru again. “How has he been doing with the nightmares?”

Tooru hummed thoughtfully, propping his head on his hand. “It’s been difficult. He can’t sleep well at night ever since…” Kyotani nodded again. “He keeps looking at me strangely, too, like he wants something from me, but I can’t figure out what. Has he said anything to you?”

Kyotani looks surprised and a little uncomfortable. “No but… thats not really what Iwaizumi-san and I talk about, ya know.”

“I don’t know, it worries me. Did I forget something important? He won’t tell me what’s going on with him though.”

Kyotani downs the rest of his water, coughing a little with the cold ice shocking his chest. He clears his throat and leans closer towards Tooru. “Look, Oikawa… I’ve known you since the Olympics. I know you get too much in your head and try to figure everything out. Maybe this is something Iwaizumi-san is going through. I know it can’t be the best for him right now.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe focus on how you can be there for him, and less about how you can fix it.”

Tooru was quiet. He looked away from Kyotani and gazed out the window into the auburn sky. White clouds were turning purple by the eating sun and a flock of birds soared high above the street. “Ugggghhh. You’re probably right.”

“Probably?” Kyotani sat back upright, smirking again. “I’m always right.”

“Oh so cocky, mad dog!”

“Stop annoying our friend, Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi was walking back to the table, a to go cup of coffee in his hand and a glowing pastry box in his other. He set the pastry in front of Tooru. “Here. If you don’t want it now, you’ll want it later.”

“Ooooh! Iwa-chan loves me!” Oikawa sang, opening up the box and sinking his teeth immediately into the milkbread. Yahab laughed as he returned from the restroom, standing at the foot of the table. “Not so loud, dumbass,” Iwaizumi hissed, his cheeks colored nonetheless.

“We better go now, Ken,” Yahaba said, looking out at the setting sun. “They’ll be closing soon, and it’ll be getting cold, too.”

Kyotani wordlessly got up and gathered his things, making sure to hand Yahaba a pair of gloves pointedly, muttering “Don’t whine to me if your fingers get cold.”

The group made their way out onto the fuzzy street, Tooru waving at the staff behind the counter as he exited. The blurry cashier waved back of course, because Tooru could charm anyone, Matsukawa had learned. As their client and friend made their way down the street and faded from view, the memory inside the cafe froze. Tooru wouldn’t remember anything after he left the store, so there was no more memory to run. The yellow sun stayed caught in the window, casting the blinds’ shadows across the wall. Pastries in a display case at the counter looked warm and tasty, as Hanamaki eyed them over. “You ever been to this place?”

Matsukawa stood up from his chair and stretched his back. “No I don’t think I have.” He looked out the window at a visible street sign. “I don’t come to this side of town often.”

“Oh you should, its absolutely great. I’ve never tried their milkbread but their donuts are super good.” He pointed at a blueberry donut in the display case and actually drooled over it a little. Matsukawa rolled his eyes fondly. “Gross,” he called out.

“I actually don’t live too far from this street. My apartment is a couple of blocks away.”

“Oh,” Matsukawa quietly said as he inspected the momento. “I live not too far from the Seijoh building.” It was a small, white, cardboard box, big enough for a couple of pastries, with a cat logo printed on the lid alongside the cafe’s name. “Nekoma Cafe. I’ll have to try them out sometime.”

He lifted the box, ignoring the sticky crumbs that fell out of it, and began preparing the momento. Hanamaki came closer, hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah they now stay open till 3 am,” he stated conversationally. Matsukawa wondered what prompted the random information.  
“It’s ready.” He said, not giving much more thought to Hanamaki’s statement. Hanamaki eyed him closely, but didn’t say another word, just activated the momento for him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is coming up so late, I got really busy with work and life. But heres another chapter! Hope you enjoy.

The sun shone quietly through the trees on a dusty path through the woods. Squirrels chittered high up in the branches and chased each other through the underbrush. The worn trail curved around a big old tree that Matsukawa and Hanamaki appeared under. It was spring and a breeze gently stirred the leaves up above.

“Iwa-chan, wait!” They heard echo down the trail, coming from the road just slightly up the mountain where a car was parked. On the other side of the tree, the two scientist heard a groan, Iwaizumi had stopped his brisk walk into the woods to wait for Tooru. He came around the tree, standing nearly next to Matsukawa, so he was in sight of the head of the trail. Iwaizumi wore a long sleeve shirt and khaki pants, hiking boots, and held a metal walking stick. He hadn’t grown his goatee yet at this point, “C’mon Oikawa.”

Tooru came down the trail, the car beeping to signify it was locked behind them, in a sun hat and spraying himself with bug spray. They were both younger, maybe in their early 60s. Tooru’s hair was brown with a streak or two of gray sprouting from the roots. He was just beginning to get crows feet around his eyes. He could have been a model, with how long his youthful looks lasted him, Matsukawa thought. Tooru carried a picnic basket with him that he readjusted in his hadn’t once he caught up to Iwaizumi. “Look Hajime, you scowl so much you’re going to make your frown lines more prominent. Do you want to become more ugly?”

Iwaizumi wacked Tooru’s leg with his walking stick, smiling wickedly when Tooru yelped. His smile faded back to feigned annoyance when Tooru whined “You’ve injured me! I can’t walk, you’ll have to carry me!”

“I’m not carrying you and you know it.” Iwaizumi gently rubbed Tooru’s shoulder placatingly though and quietly admitted “I would if I could, but we’re both a little too old for that.” Tooru stopped pretending to be hurt, and he smiled at Iwaizumi like he was his sun. He leaned against him, touching their foreheads together for a brief moment. Hanamaki looked back at Matsukawa uncomfortably, like they were witnessing too intimate a moment, but Matsukawa shrugged it off. These things were common when you went through a person’s memories after all. They two older men separated and started back down the trail, leading the scientists to their next destination.

The weather was pleasantly warm, with a bite of cool in the shadows. This was expected of temperatures in the mountains. As they followed the two men, half- listening to Tooru’s chatter and Iwaizumi’s affirmative grunts, Matsukawa thought about finding a trail like this and hiking when he get some time off. It’d be nice to get out of the city every now and then. Hanamaki on the other hand was worried about mosquitos buzzing through the air, even though they couldn’t actually bite him. He wasn’t much a nature lover, but he could admit the scenery was lovely, especially as they came to a clearing along the trail. The trees were farther spaced apart here, leaving room for a picnic bench and an old dusty trash can. 

Iwaizumi took the picnic basket from Tooru, beginning to set up their lunch. “You know why I love this trail?”

“It’s where we got married.” Tooru said, smiling at him. He glowed in the early afternoon sun, his sun hat framing his smiling face like a halo. Iwaizumi looked at Tooru, like he was looking for a different answer. Tooru tilted his head a little confused but when Iwaizumi never prompted any thing else from him, his eyes glanced away. “I heard they might close it.”

Iwaizumi looked up startled. “What? Why?”

“It’s not really used anymore.” Tooru said this staring up at the sky.

“We use it.”

“But not as often anymore, and we may be the only ones who still use it.”

Iwaizumi huffed angrily and finished setting up their lunch. He looked around the clearing, noticing the grass had not been cut in a while and vines grew over the Nishi trail sign. Underneath the vines Matsukawa could see the glow. Tooru now watched Iwaizumi’s expressions shift as he though about the state of their trail and what may become of it. “I have an idea, Iwa-chan. If we save up, in a few years we could build a house up here.”

“What are you talking about? Move out of the city? But you love the city, Oikawa.”

“You love the mountain.” He said this like it was reason enough. “If we moved out here, we could have everything we’d ever need.”

“More space than our apartment…” Iwaizumi grumpily suggested. Tooru nodded enthusiastically and came tp sit next to his husband. He grabbed his hand. “We could retire, build a koi pond and garden. Oh! We could teach volleyball lessons to local kids!”

“We can never really retire, can we?” Iwaizumi laughed.

“And we could take care of the trail.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but smile, getting lost in Tooru’s dreams. This was something they could have together. Just then a fluttering of wings erupted from the trees, and the menacing caw of a flock of crows echoed through the air. A group of crows appeared over the meadow, diving down to land on tree branches and the ground. Iwaizumi and Tooru did not seem alarmed by the sudden appearance of birds. In fact Iwaizumi turned to them with a bag of seeds and nuts and began tossing the seeds to the crows in the trees. Tooru Took a handful and offered it to a crow that was close to him on the ground. “Come here Tobio-chan, I have some nuts for you!”

The crow cawed at him but came no closer, hopping towards the tree where the rest of his flock were coming down to eat the scattered nuts and seeds. “You know a crow never forgets.” Iwaizumi reminds, smirking at Tooru.

“I yelled at him once!” Tooru whined. He hurried his head in Iwaizumi’s shoulder petulantly. The crows ate their snack quietly, some watching the two humans interact. Iwaizumi threw an arm around Tooru, pulling him closer to him. He rested his head on top of Tooru’s.

“Ya know, I’m imagining big windows, and an office where I can work on my book.” Iwaizumi’s voice was soft. They both seemed so happy as they talked about their future home together.

Matsukawa had walked over to the Nishi Trail sign and was preparing the momento. Hanamaki had followed behind. “Ya know this sucks. We know what happens. It’s like watching a train wreck.”

Matsukawa hummed thoughtfully, “It doesn’t take away the importance of this memory. They’re happy now, no matter how it ends.”

Hanamaki grumbles to himself, and then encourages Matsukawa. “Lets move on.”

At the table, Tooru leans his head up and kisses Iwaizumi softly, and they continue to talk about their dream home in the mountain as the memory fades away.

“Have you noticed anything off about Iwa-chan lately?”

They sat in a pub, Tooru and his two friends Yahaba and Kyotani when Matsukawa and Hanamaki appeared. Iwaizumi was at the bar ordering another round of drinks for their table. The other patrons of the bar were blurry faced and faded away, just outlines of the crowd still remained. The table Tooru was sitting at was worn and sticky, this corner of the bar a regular spot, it seemed due to the vividness of the memory. 

“What do you mean?” Kyotani huffed.

“Well… he’s been having nightmares,” Tooru supplied, still unsure if he should bring this up to his friends. “Almost every night he wakes up four or five times from them.”

“It does seem like he’s more tired than usual,” Yahaba chimed in, sipping the last dregs of his beer. “What are his nightmares about?”

Tooru paused, looking back at the bar to ensure Iwaizumi was still occupied. His hands fiddled with a straw wrapper atop the table. “He hasn’t told me what his dreams are about, but they started after his dad died… I can’t help but think that’s it.”

“I know it must be very hard for him. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s feeling.”

“He’s probably real fucked up, just doesn’t want to show it,” Kyotani cut back in. He was scowling down at his arms crossed and resting on the table. Yahaba placed a hand on his back and soothingly rubbed it. Tooru must have understood there was something there that he better not push further.

Either way, Iwaizumi was returning to their table with his hands full of drinks for his friends. Yahaba cheered and thanked Iwaizumi like he owed him his life. Tooru grinned and thanked his husband, but did leave a lingering look on Kyotani. The light beer with a foamy head glowed in the dim pub, and Hanamaki took the lead by preparing the momento.

“What should we toast to this time?” Iwaizumi asked, cheeks warm and flushed after a night of drinking. “How about business? Yahaba your acting is going well? What about you music Kyotani?”

“How about to a long, happy life?” Tooru suggested, entertaining his hand with Iwaizumi’s as he held up his drink. Yahaba agreed wholeheartedly, and Kyotani shrugged and picked up his glass. Iwaizumi glanced quizzically at Tooru but saw only care and love from his partner. They clinked glasses together and Matsukawa was the one to activate the memory.


End file.
